


you are the angel that i couldn't kill

by hero_is_here



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Afterlife, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst and Tragedy, Blood and Violence, Character Death, Child Death, Child Murder, Dead Jschlatt (Video Blogging RPF), Dead Wilbur Soot, Fist Fights, Gen, Mentioned Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned Toby Smith | Tubbo, Older Sibling Wilbur Soot, Traumatized Tommyinnit (Video Blogging RPF), Violence, hurt/some comfort, idk if i can qualify this as hurt/comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 12:42:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29792073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hero_is_here/pseuds/hero_is_here
Summary: “Schlatt? He’s fuckin’ dead. I’ve seen his grave, his grave is real, his corpse is there.”“Why don’t you go see him then?” Dream hisses out as his fist connects with the teenager’s jaw. It knocks Tommy onto the ground and he reaches up to hold his chin. Tommy looks up and slowly realizes that he’s never seen Dream truly pissed- not while being able to see his face. But in the prison, Dream’s unfathomable anger and bloodlust is in complete display, crowned with shoulder length dirty blonde hair.ORdream's though process and tommy in the afterlife[title from "oh ana" by mother mother.]
Relationships: Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Comments: 1
Kudos: 80





	you are the angel that i couldn't kill

**Author's Note:**

> oh boysie this is rough. was very angry/sad after the stream so i spedran this. yes i project onto tommy no i am not a dream apologist. also felt very bad posting this so it might get taken down idk
> 
> tw: many many mentions of blood, graphic depictions of fighting, graphic depictions of a dead person, child endangerment/death, alluding to alcohol

“It’s not fuckin’ real. Schlatt was a drunk. Where would he have even gotten the book?”

Dream clenches his teeth and balls his fist. Of course, Tommy is undermining him again and not letting him get one word in. Like always.

“Schlatt? He’s fuckin’ dead. I’ve seen his grave, his grave is real, his corpse is  _ there _ .”

“Why don’t you go see him then?” Dream hisses out as his fist connects with the teenager’s jaw. It knocks Tommy onto the ground and he reaches up to hold his chin. Tommy looks up and slowly realizes that he’s never seen Dream truly pissed- not while being able to see his face. But in the prison, Dream’s unfathomable anger and bloodlust is in complete display, crowned with shoulder length dirty blonde hair. 

“What-”

Dream kicks him in the head and Tommy falls to the ground. Dream falls on top and whams into his face again. And again. He’s not sure if he’s ever truly been this angry before. Not when Spirit died, not every single time Tommy stole his things, not when Tommy betrayed his trust with that shitty underground hovel, not when Tommy undermined his authority again and  _ again _ . The pain in his fists grows to a dull pain as he continues to whale on the teen. 

He feels blood splash onto his face, but it doesn’t matter, not really. All that matters is the white hot anger he feels in his blood. A culmination of all the visits from his shitty “friends,” all the betrayals from Tommy and Technoblade and Punz and everyone under the fucking sun. Anger boils his blood unlike any time before. He’s always tried to push it down, only let bits bubble up in explosions and monologues. He’s never angry when he fights. Anger leads to mistakes, screw ups. He has to stay confident in fights.

He’s not quite sure why he’s so angry. Is it Tommy being a little shit for however many days he’s been in the prison? Is it Tommy not letting him get a word in as he yells about the book being fake? Dream thinks it might be everything finally boiling over. In the words of an ally, he’s a slow burning fuse. 

He doesn’t stop- doesn’t even think until he hears his name being shouted. Or is it Tommy’s name? He hears shouting, at least. He looks up and sees Sam across the pit, the lava gone.

“ _ Dream _ ,” the green haired man yells out, voice full of anger and a deep sadness. “What the hell did you do?”

Dream’s eyebrows furrow together as he looks down at his fists. They are bloodied and bruised and the wounds are  _ deep _ . He looks down at the teenager. There is more blood than skin visible. His nose is far too crooked to be okay, teeth hanging on by roots, lip split in multiple places. Blood leaks into the halo of blonde hair crowning the boy’s face.

“Tommy..?” Dream asks and somehow his brain expects an answer. There is no rise and fall of his chest, no eye movement under his eyelids. “Oh, oh, no.”

* * *

Wilbur looks at Schlatt from over his cards. “Something’s happening.”

Schlatt sighs. “You’re just tryna get out of your shitty hand.”

Wilbur purses his lips. “No, no, I think something’s happening.”

“You said that last time and then disappeared for two weeks. And no shitty loud kid. Not that I’m complaining,” Schlatt looks up from his cards. “Though, it would be nice to talk to someone else other than you’re dumb ass.”

The older man rolls his eyes. “Fuck off.”

“You first,” Schlatt smirks. 

“Listen-”

He’s interrupted by a change in their setting. It’s hard to perceive, just like everything in this place. The white void shakes and Wilbur cringes at the headache it gives him. He sees Schlatt do the same.

When the pain dulls, there is a blonde boy standing there. Blood drips down his face and he looks like he’s been through Hell. 

Wilbur stands from his criss-cross position, dropping the cards. The teen looks at him and squints. “W… Wil?”

“Tommy.” 

“I’m here, too,” Schlatt mutters, staring down the pair. 

Tommy does not listen to the ram’s words as a sob chokes out. “Wil,” he says before he’s tackling his older brother in a hug. Wilbur holds his ground, though is definitely surprised that this is Tommy’s first reaction. He expected the boy to be pissed, he never thought of Tommy dying without a fight. The bloody face and unscatched fists tell a different story, though.

Tommy sobs into Wilbur’s shirt, soaking it with slowly drying blood and tears. In any other world, Wilbur would be angry, but nothing in this place stays ruined for long. Wilbur hugs his brother and holds him tight. Wilbur remembers when he broke the veil, and spoke to Tommy last. His transparent hands just went through when he tried to put his hand on his shoulder. 

The sobs stop and, for a moment, it’s like it was before. Just a hug. There’s no sadness behind it, no pity. Then, Tommy pulls away and looks up at Wilbur. “I… I need to go back.”

Schlatt snorts and Wilbur shoots him a warning glare. “There’s no way back, Tommy, I’m sorry-”

“No, no, you were Ghostbur for months, what about that?”

“I wasn’t… Ghostbur isn’t me. I don’t really know  _ what  _ he is, but I’m definitely a different entity.”

Tommy shakes his head. “What about when you came back after our fight with Dream?”

“That was a whole different story. Your near death opened the veil enough for me to cut through for a few moments, but-”

“I just died! Surely the fuckin’ veil or whatever the hell is still open!”

“Tommy-”

“No! I’ve- I never apologized! To Tubbo, and Techno, and-and-”

“Listen, kid, it’s not happening. Trust me, I’ve tried,” Schlatt says, inspecting his nails from the floor. Tommy’s eyes cut to the ram, as if suddenly realizing his presence.

“What the fuck is he doing here? Isn’t this like- heaven or something?”

Schlatt lets out a laugh. Wilbur grimaces. “I don’t exactly think I’d end up in heaven, Toms,” Wilbur tries to joke. 

“So, this is hell?” Tommy looks back to his brother.

“Er, not quite? I really don’t know. It’s just kind of a… white space.”

“A shitty white space,” Schlatt adds on, looking at Wilbur’s fallen cards. “You did have a shitty hand.”

Tommy frowns. “I’ve gotta go ghost or whatever. I  _ need  _ to go back.”

“I’m sorry, Tommy. There’s nothing we can do, unless Dream actually does have a resurrection book.”

Tommy’s eyes light up. “Schlatt! You know if it’s real or not, don’t you?”

“If what’s real?”

Tommy clenches his teeth. “The fuckin’ book! The one that resurrects people.”

Schlatt closes his eyes in thought. “I’m gonna be serious with you, kid. I remember nothing about that book. I was drunker than a fuckin’ skunk.”

“Fuck!” Tommy stops himself from stamping his foot like a child. Wilbur frowns and puts a hand on Tommy’s shoulder.

“Well, if it’s real, I’m sure you’ll be going back soon. But, in the meantime, we have cards!”

Wilbur sits in his place across from Schlatt and pats the area next to him.

“You ever played poker?” Schlatt asks. “Wilbur’s shit at it.”

Tommy’s fingernails dig into his palms for a moment while he calms himself down. He sinks onto his knees next to Wilbur. “No. Poker sounds fuckin’ boring.”

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: hero-is-here  
> Twitter: heroishere0
> 
> leave a comment if you'd like, they always make me happy. also, check out my other stories. thank you for reading!


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